Warwick Chronicles
by strangechild13
Summary: Roxas was normal. At least, he thought he was. What is Warwick, and why can't Roxas remember?


**A/N: Yep, the plot bunnies are at it again. There's a lot of gender switching of Roxas and Axel going on over there too, but I don't know if you guys want to read that. The only interesting one is the one where Ax is Psionic... But anyway, enjoy this one, where I promise, despite what I just said, they're both boys. **_  
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_Regeneration._

An angry sigh as the typed letters were deleted and stared over again.

_Restoration._

_ Dear God, what the hell is wrong with me?_ Again, another try.

_ Reformation._

_ Are you kidding me? Is there some deity I don't know about trying to tell me something through this damn paper? _The teenager scanned through his paper, trying to reclaim his thought processes. He'd switched topics with some poor soul in his class, the topic he'd originally been assigned making his blood boil for reasons unknown to even him. His fingers tangled themselves into his blonde spikes in frustration as he tried to sort out his own mind.

_Why was I so pissed about gay marriage anyway? It's not like it affects me any. Whatever, at least this is something I actually know something about… test scores. Right._ He sighed and let his eyes scan the screen for what must have been the 500th time.

_Test scores, are in fact, not an accurate indicator of a school's competency, read, their ability to properly teach their students. Leaving curriculum open to teachers' interpretation, along with the idea of different learning "styles"- visual, audial, and kinetic, for example- leave too many variables on standardized state tests, such that visual learners will have a better score on a test than in a classroom, whereas an audial or kinetic learner would have the opposite effect. The issue of "test anxiety" also plays a role in test scores. Schools often stress to students the importance of state testing, causing what is known as "test anxiety", or the fear of a bad score causing one to "draw a blank" out of stress would bring down a student's overall score. Really, to observe a school's true competency, one should-_

And all he'd been able to type was different forms of the _same damn word_ for the last ten minutes. He sighed and continued typing, his thoughts forming back in his head again.

_-And sometimes I wonder if it's even all worth it anymore, because really, I feel like I'm cursed at this point… Really, who do you know- besides us, stupid- that's had this much shit happen to them when they're not even out of their teen years? Goddamn, you're the only good thing that's ever happened to me, and sometimes I just want to snatch you up in the middle of the night and-_

Whoa. Where had all _that_ come from? Funny thing was, now that he'd typed it, he could recall, somewhere in the back of his memory, someone repeating those very words… the voice was so similar to his own, it could have been, if it hadn't sounded so ragged and weary and tired and frankly… _old_.

_Recollection._

God damn it all. His fingers were moving of their own accord again. He erased the random babbling that had appeared out of nowhere and tried to focus on his paper again. He'd typed exactly one word before the bell to signal the end of class sounded. He saved what little he did have, sent it to himself to finish it later, and signed off before literally running smack into someone in the hall.

"Sorry," He apologized, not even bothering to look up at the stranger before bending to pick up the messenger bag that had slipped off his shoulder due to the unfortunate combination of weight and collision.

"Don't be sorry, Sunshine, I'm used to it."

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_

_That voice…_

"It's Roxas, not Sunshine, asshole." Roxas looked up at the other boy. Something struck in his chest and in the back of his mind at the red hair and green eyes, but only brought the thought, "_something's missing…_"

The stranger laughed and muttered something under his breath before offering to "escort" him to class- complete with a gentlemanly extension of his hand.

"I don't think so. My mum says not to talk to strangers."

Something dark crossed the redhead's face for a brief second and Roxas wondered if he'd imagined it as the boy laughed.

"I don't blame you for refusing. I'm very strange, I'll give you that. And you're mother's right, you shouldn't ever talk to strangers. Unless they have something to offer. Then it's okay."

Roxas knew he shouldn't have laughed at those words, but something in him knew that this was the boy's "joking" tone. The easy smile on his face might have swayed that picture a bit, though. Somewhere amid his laughter, Roxas had decided letting this boy walk to class with him might not be such a bad idea after all- of course, he was only aware his brain had made this decision when he had started walking and called out, "You coming?"

"Anywhere you want me to, babe," the boy grinned, catching up to Roxas easily- he was a good few inches taller- and smirking lazily as Roxas snorted and playfully punched his arm, catching the innuendo easily, as he _was_, in fact, a 17-year-old boy.

"Not gay, just so you know."

The redhead, who still had yet to give his name, muttered something that sounded to Roxas suspiciously like "so you think", but the blonde didn't press.

"Where you headed?" the boy asked. "God, this place is a maze and a half, isn't it?"

"Study hall," Roxas answered. "Yeah, it is, but you get used to it. Transfer student?"

"You could say that. I move around a lot. Military brat, you know how it is."

They lapsed into silence as they walked down the hallway. The redhead pulled out a cell phone- an odd-looking one, but still identifiable as the common device- and began fiddling with it. Roxas cleared his throat and offered a sarcastically cheery "put the phone away, jackass", to which his companion responded that he was a "special case" and was excused from the "no phones" rule if it involved his guardian, which, at this particular moment, it did.

"So because you're a military brat you're excused?"

"No, because I'm a military brat with a very rare, very serious medical condition, I'm excused. He's just checking on me." The boy checked the phone again. "Sorry. She. No wonder that seemed like an odd message."

"Are you high?"

"Not yet," the redhead answered, and Roxas couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Okay. Well, um, here's my class, you should get to yours…"

"Already here, Sunshine." The boy pulled out his class list and after a few seconds of Roxas deciphering it- even if you knew how the things were organized it still took at least that much time to figure out which class was when- realized the boy was actually supposed to be here with him and decided that as long as he had the paper, he might as well find out what this guy's name was.

"Axel, eh?"

"That's me, Sunshine. Don't bother with the last name, it's not important." Axel nearly tore the list in half, he was in such a hurry to get it away from Roxas.

"Stop calling me that, dammit," Roxas growled. "It's beginning to piss me off."

"And we can't have anything that pisses you off, can we, Princess?"

"Oh my God, seriously? I don't think you've called me by my name once since we met, and I'm certain I gave it to you."

"Well, well, getting testy, are we?"

"Whatever. I don't need this shit. I've already had a bad day, so if you'd kindly stop being a dick, that'd be just great," Roxas hissed, hoping to throw this strange boy off his back. Roxas' plan, however, seemed to be ineffective as Axel followed him into the classroom seeming unaffected by Roxas' acidic voice and quietly took the seat in the back row next to him, throwing his feet, clad in old-school black Chucks, up onto the desk and staring at them as if they held the secrets to the universe. Roxas didn't understand. They were just normal sneakers, but upon closer inspection they were-

"Are those _leather_?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Had them for years."

"They look brand new."

"When you live my kind of life, you can own shoes for _twenty_ years and they'll look brand new, even if you wear them every day of your life. I never really got to go outside much. But the house I grew up in was pretty big, so I guess I can't complain."

"I thought you said you moved around a lot…" Roxas said, raising a brow.

"I do. I just… you know, I just… I don't know. Maybe I am stoned already."

"Why don't the laces on your shoes match?" The right shoe had a bright red lace, while the other sported a contrasting black-white checker pattern.

"My boyfriend had a tendency to steal my left shoe. He was kind of into the whole black and white thing, so I did it for him. He loved it. Real touching story, isn't it?"

"You sound pissed. He left you or something?"

Axel hummed and picked at the checkered shoelace. "You could say that."

"Why did he steal your shoe?"

"His aim was to steal both of them, because then I couldn't run away when he wasn't looking and leave him behind. I'm convinced it was just an excuse he made up because he just liked to steal my shoes, even if they didn't fit him and he therefore had no use for them." Axel pulled an old gold pocket watch out of his front jeans pocket and opened it, casually checking the time as the pieces of their conversation began to fit themselves together in Roxas' head.

"So… you said he didn't want you to run away, yet he 'left' you…?"

"That's a euphemism for it. Some people like to say it like that instead of just outright saying it."

"Euphemism…? Oh… _oh_. I'm so sorry."

"I don't think it's exactly what you're thinking, but I'll let you think what you are just so I don't have to tell the whole damn story again."

"Alright… Mito? Where the hell are you? Get up here," the teacher called from the front of the room.

"That's my cue," Axel sighed lazily, nearly melting out of the chair and wandering up to the front of the room. Roxas watched Axel converse with the teacher, feeling a pang of jealousy when Axel cast another thoughtful look at his shoe- the one with the checkered lace. Roxas had a secret penchant for the same pattern that he was dying to tell Axel about now, in hopes it would either cheer him up or get his mind off this other boy- Roxas was better than him anyway, his mind reasoned- and he promptly sat up straight from his former position of leaning slightly forward, surprised once again at the turn of thought his mind had taken. It was as if someone else was controlling his mind today. Axel came back over to him and gave him a concerned look, as if sensing his distress.

"What's with the look?" Roxas muttered darkly.

"You alright, kid?" Axel asked, not answered the blonde's question. Roxas hummed noncommittally in answer and rested his head on his arms, hoping to sort out his thoughts. He found it hard to do with Axel staring at him, however, and soon gave it up in favor of the pretext of reading a book, which he hadn't so much as opened before hearing, "Firebird?"

"How'd you know?"

"I like it too. I recognized the back of the book."

"That's nice for you, isn't it?"

"Pissy today, Roxy?"

Any retort Roxas had died in the back of his throat as-

_-And really, Roxy, baby, you need to relax. It's not that bad. We could be starving or dying from some kind of disease or something. Before you say it, we're not diseased, and you know it. Now, why don't you come to bed? You're tired, I can tell, just come lay down, it's nearly three, for God's sake, they're getting us up in an hour and I know how you are when you haven't slept-_

It was unmistakably Axel's voice. He was dimly aware of someone touching him, asking if he was okay… illogically, but truthfully, he replied that no, he wasn't, _obviously_.

"Well don't go dying on me then, Bright-eyes, that would suck."

And that was the moment that Roxas' brain, in its never-ending train of stupidity that day, chose to let go of the ideal of consciousness completely. He, in true melodramatic teenager fashion, later wished he could say he had felt the impact of the floor, or someone catching him and saving his life, but his next sensation at all was the feeling of someone's fingers through his hair.

_Axel…_ His mind said, and then oddly corrected itself with, _the fingers aren't the same._

_How the hell would I know that? _The other side of Roxas' brain replied. The blonde was starting to think he'd randomly been assaulted head-on with a case of Schizophrenia. _It's probably just mum_, he rationalized, craving familiarity, pleading with the deity that'd possessed his fingers in school to give him _something_ that had actually been in his life for the last 17 years.

_Don't go dying on me, Bright-eyes…_

He'd said it almost comically, like it'd been some kind of inside joke. It probably had been a joke, but how was Roxas supposed to get it?

Then, and _only _then, did he become aware of the incessant beeping coming from his left. A heart rate monitor, but were they supposed to beep that fast? And there was the feeling of a Heparin Lock in his arm. Goddamn, he hated needles. Who gave them the permission for _that_? He just passed out, he couldn't have been _that_ sick that he needed an _IV_, right? He groaned in frustration at his own thoughts.

"Oh my God, are you awake? Holy shit, you're going to kill me for being in here, aren't you? You never liked me in your room… Well, that was always morning after you and Ax had… uh, you know, but, um… Rox? Hello? You in there? Axel said you were getting your memories back, and I think you're ignoring me, so you must be… uh, I'll go find him. You'd probably much rather see him than me…"

Roxas forced his eyes open to face a panicked boy he'd never seen a day in his life.

"You… know my name…?" he croaked.

"Oh come on, passing out always works in the movies! Of course, you're not exactly a conformist, are you? Anyway, I'm going to find Axel, I think he left…" The boy made a few steps out the door.

"Where's my mum?" Roxas was somewhat aware that he did sound a small bit like a scared child lost in a store, but damn it all, he just wanted his life back to normal.

"Your _mum_? Jesus Rox, what the hell kind of drugs they got you on in this place? Your mum's…"

"Say one more word and I'll kick your pansy ass to hell and back, swear to Shiva." Both blondes in the room turned to look at the redhead that Roxas felt was becoming acquainted with him far too fast.

"Axel, I thought you said he remembered."

"I said he remembered a _bit_. Selective listening. You should get that checked out." Axel sat down on the edge of Roxas' bed. "How you feeling?"

"Like you're inviting yourself to places you don't belong," Roxas answered, pairing the words with a look that clearly read, "move it, asshole, or I'll move you". Axel clearly ignored the look, instead asking the blonde boy to leave.

"Jesus, Ax, you don't waste any time, do you? He's in a hospital bed with an IV for God's sake. You're sick."

"Oh, quit being a bitch and get the hell out. You know it's got nothing to do with that, so back off and leave us alone, will you?" The blonde left, grumbling about telling "The Boss" and Axel turned to him with a serious look. "Tell me about your past. You know, your childhood, your early teen years, that kind of stuff. The big events in your life."

"Stalker much?" Roxas asked in an attempt to joke, but Axel didn't appear amused, so the blonde sighed and began his story. "My mother was on vacation with a few of her friends from college in Mexico, of all places, when she met my father, who was on vacation with his family. Then it was the typical storybook, "oh I love you, let's only know each other two weeks before we get married and then wind up with a kid 9 months later" love affair. Surprisingly, they're still together and they don't fight. So I guess I can't really complain. All my grandparents are still alive, though they're weird as shit in their old age. I really just have a normal life, except for when I was 15 I was in a car accident and I lost my memory completely, all I could remember was my first name and my age… Why the hell did I just tell you that?"

"Because I asked. 'Big events', remember? Tell me more." Axel rested an elbow on his knee and his chin in his hand in a joke of rapt attention, though Roxas could tell he really was interested.

"They said I had Retrograde Amnesia and I would never gain my memories back, and I still haven't, though my mum told me all about my life and I guess there's starting to be like, shadows of memory there, but the doctors said that they might just be me having been told the same story so many times. But I feel- Never mind…"

"No, tell me," Axel encouraged, a hand over Roxas'. The blonde pulled his hand back. The other cleared his throat and apologized, but Roxas didn't respond.

_-And you do this same shit over and over again, and it's like I'm the only one that really gets it, the only one that really wants to, and you don't even know what's wrong with you, so how the hell am I supposed to, and you turn to me for an answer to everything like I'm God or some shit but I'm not, Rox, I'm just not. I don't know anything more about you or this shit that anyone else does, and I don't know why you think I do. All I know is you like to hide from shit, you like to run away. Well, the rest of us would like to run away too, but we can't. And then you complain that they've got this Master hold on you, well no shit, if you weren't such a damn mental case, they probably wouldn't-_

Roxas wanted it to stop. Axel, the boy that had done him no wrong, the boy that had seemed so distantly mournful for the boy he had lost, was yelling at him inside his head, inside a memory that wasn't his. Axel, the boy who had, just a few minutes- was it really only minutes this mind-Axel had been angrily reprimanding him for some long-gone mistake?- ago was so concerned about what he had to say in that last sentence.

"Stop!" Roxas cried out, begging the voice to stop. He didn't want to hear it anymore. Words were flooding his head now, a different voice now, cold and mechanical-

_Genes… Experiments… Defense… Strains… Injections…_

Arms were around him as the words screamed around in his mind, flooding both sides. He identified the scent, somehow, as Axel, and pushed him away in the irrational- _rational !_ The "other half" of his mind screamed- fear that Axel would start another reprimand again.

"You want to hear a story?" Axel asked quietly, the same tone he'd spoken with when he'd explained to Roxas the story behind his shoes.

"Sure. Can you tell me about… him?" Roxas asked, indicating Axel's shoe. "If it's not too upsetting."

"I should. You need to." Axel let out a quiet laugh. "My Roxy," he sighed.

"Isn't Roxy a girls' name?" Roxas asked. Internally, he noted the similarity to his own name. Axel looked over at him, a small smirk on his face.

"Exactly. Neurotic as shit kid, let me tell you. Always putting a fist through _something_ and yet two seconds later he was cuddlier than a three-year-old and he was all sorry. I could tell when he was pissed at me because if I'd try to so much as hold his hand he'd make some comment about incest and ask me if I enjoyed sleeping with my little brother that much."

"He was your brother?"

"No. He had a sick sense of humor like that and made a comment that we were kind of like brothers because of how we lived."

"How'd you live?"

"Basically, like living in one big house with a bunch of people you don't know, like a huge family. It's ridiculous. Pretty much everyone's 'siblings' and 'cousins' with each other after a while- if they like each other- and so that was like his tactic to try to guilt me into leaving him alone." Axel was looking at him like it was _Roxas _who had done such a stupid thing. Roxas wanted to laugh- it was kind of funny really, calling your boyfriend your brother as an indicator of when you were upset with him- but he didn't think Axel would take it kindly. The thought was immediately reevaluated when Axel looked on the verge of laughter himself.

"Military housing?"

"Low-income military housing, yes. Roxy acted like the world had some deal with him, like they had some score to settle with each other. Always in fights, always out for blood. I told him that if he wanted to spill that much blood then he must be a vampire. He said if he was a vampire that made me a slutty teenage girl."

Roxas _did_ laugh at that, he couldn't help himself. Axel laughed as well, before speaking words that had Roxas abruptly stopping.

"It's good to hear you laughing again, Rox." Axel seemed to realize his mistake and try to correct it. "It's just, I haven't heard you laugh in so long, I haven't seen _you_ in so long…"

"You just _met_ me, you dick. Are you _high _or some shit? I don't even _know _you."

"Psychogenic amnesia is a loss of memory caused by extreme emotional distress. In which I apologize greatly because I know the second you remember you're going to blame me because you blame me for everything. When you were 15, you didn't get in a car crash and develop retrograde amnesia. That's caused by a physical blow to the head, which permanently damages the brain and therefore causes permanent memory loss. You have psychogenic amnesia, which developed after you ran away, basically, from a military testing facility. I know this sounds corny, but your life is a lie. Your name and age are correct, the things you remembered after your "accident", but you seemed to have forgotten the facility, and therefore all your responsibilities tied to it, completely. That's why I'm here."

"You're insane, do you know that? What happened to 'military housing'? What about that boy you were talking about?"

"I was talking about you, Rox. Jesus, don't you remember anything?"

"Doesn't what I have kind of imply that I don't _want _to?" Roxas paused. "Does my family know that I'm a military experiment?"

Axel snorted. "What family? Those people that have been taking care of you for the last two years? They're not your family, they just told you they were because someone had to be here when they found a 15-year-old kid on the side of the road who had no idea who the hell he was. They've been lying to you since 'car crash' and it hasn't stopped since. Baby, Dem and I are your family."

"Dem? The blonde guy that was in here?"

Axel smirked. "How'd you know?" he teased.

"Just the things he was saying… God, must you be such a jackass?"

"Yes, because if I wasn't I wouldn't be me, according to Warwick. The system told them I'd be a jackass two minutes after I was done developing."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, can't really say we were born, seeing as how we didn't come out of a human being, we came out of an incubator. Soon as we hit the requirements for 'birth', we were taken out. You've heard of In Vitro fertilization, right?"

"Yeah…"

"That's how we came about. They took samples from people that no longer exist- they couldn't let these people _live_, obviously, they knew too much- turned them into an embryo, let it grow, and here we are. They use us as guinea pigs. It always bugged you, always tugged at the heartstrings you seemed to retain through it all… I felt bad for you, you were hurting so much, and I guess that's why you ran?"

"So what, you were with me because you _pitied _me?"

Axel didn't respond and simply looked at the door. Roxas' instinct knew someone was approaching. A man walked into the room, his long blonde hair graying slightly with age, his green eyes darker than Axel's, but still comparative. Roxas could feel his instincts kicking in- _fight, fight, injection, not another, fight it, fight it, no more_- but the man only smiled in a comforting manner, and Roxas was further soothed by Axel's hand over his.

"Hello, Roxas. It's nice to see you again. If only it were under better circumstances, yes?" The doctor frowned at Roxas' lack of response. "Well, anyway, I see your friend is here again. I'll tell you, when you were here before, he never left your side, even when told to. You must be very close. How are you feeling? Have any of your memories returned?"

"A bit," Roxas answered warily. The blonde looked to his- he wasn't sure what to call Axel- for answers, but received none. All he got was-

_Warwick… Warwick… Warwick…_

"Can you tell me what you remember?"

Roxas decided that if everyone else was going to lie, he might as well start too. Or at least start trying to confuse people. "Which half do you want?"

"I'm sorry?" the doctor asked. Axel regarded the other boy with a confused look.

"My brain. It's split in half. Which half do you want to talk about?"

"I'm schizophrenic, and I am too…" Axel muttered. The doctor shot him a look.

"Watch it. You know he can't develop schizophrenia. It's his…"

"Instinctual memory against what he consciously remembers, I know. I'm not an idiot."

"Could've fooled me," Roxas muttered good-naturedly. Axel shot him a warning look. Roxas simply smiled.

"Alright Roxas, let's talk about the 'instinct' side. Do you know which side that is? Does the word 'Warwick' mean anything to you?"

_Injection… No, not again… Fight, run, not another one… Get away…_

"Rox…" Axel said softly.

"I'm… fine. Warwick… that's the place I came from. The facility."

"Did this one tell you that?" the doctor asked, gazing condescendingly at Axel.

"No. I just knew. I remembered. It's the half that knows Axel."

"That name doesn't mean anything to him," Axel said. "You're still missing a few details. Such as the fact that the higher-ups don't like the whole 'name' deal."

"You're from Warwick?" Roxas asked. Axel placed a hand on his shoulder, apparently sensing his fear.

"You don't recognize me?" the doctor asked.

"I knew when I saw you, all I could think about what getting away because of injections, but I can't remember anything about you. I recognize you, but I don't know who you are. That doesn't make any sense, does it?" Roxas turned to Axel. "Am I crazy?"

Axel laughed and pulled him into as much of an embrace as the wires would allow. "No, you're not crazy. Strange as all hell, but not crazy. Well, maybe a little."

"Actually, Roxas," the doctor began. When it became obvious that the disapproving superiority of his tone was not enough to pull the two apart, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Give it up, Vexen," Axel said darkly. "He's scared out of his mind. He needs me."

"He survived on his own for two years, he can handle another two minutes while I explain this to him." Axel pulled away from the blonde slowly, placing a kiss on his temple, allowing Vexen to explain himself. "What you're experiencing is common with amnesiacs. Most friends or family will wear the same perfume or their hair the same way or some such thing to help them associate that trait with that person. What trait do you associate with Axel?"

"Uh… I don't know. I know when I first saw him- again- my first thought was that something was… missing… but I'm not sure what… it was just weird to see him, it was something about his face…" Roxas leaned on Axel again. "Do you have a scar or something?"

"Tattoos. The school made me cover them up. Here, I'll go fix it." Axel stood and went into the bathroom, where Roxas could faintly here water running. The Axel that emerged had two marks on his face, inverted teardrops that Roxas at first thought were black but turned out to be a dark purple. There was a spark, and before he could stop himself, Roxas was in Axel's arms again, not quite sure whose initiative had brought him there.

"Well, since you two are more wrapped up in each other than getting anywhere in Roxas' treatment, I suppose I'll leave, but don't forget, this behavior _will_ be reported." Vexen left, but neither boy cared. A few minutes later- again, Roxas found himself wondering if only a span of a few minutes had passed- senses were pulling the two apart. A man walked into the room, his aura more commanding than that of even Vexen. It was the orange, almost glowing eyes that did it for Roxas this time, which brought Axel to his side again.

"I'm interested to hear how you're going to explain yourself," the man said, not bothering with the pretext of warmth like Vexen had. Roxas stared him down, scared out of his mind but at the same time unwilling to allow this man to get the better of him.

"I don't believe I need to explain myself to _you_," Roxas said coldly. "I've never seen you a day in my life, you have no right to go demanding explanations out of me. Who are you?" Axel was hiding a sardonic smile and the man looked far less than amused- he looked on the verge of attack, which had Roxas' fingers on the Hep Lock, ready to pull it out and retaliate if necessary. Axel pushed him back against the bed and removed his fingers from the drip, tangling them with his own in an attempt to distract him.

"Easy, killer," Axel muttered.

"He's not a killer," the man said coldly. "He's the Reality of Combat."

Roxas was sure if Axel hadn't been holding him back, the man would have been dead.

**A/N: Wasn't sure how to end it, but a lot of things will be explained soon (I actually WANT to write this one, so I might update quicker if you review and tell me that you want me to write more of it too... -obvious hint- And I don't mind anonymous reviews, I'll throw replies into the A/N at the beginning of the chapter after your review, if they don't make sense, please don't mind my bad English!)**


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